The Medium Is The Message
"Inexplicable," Twilight Sparkle said as the Wyoming countryside rolled slowly by outside the car window.
"Ooh, good one," I said, and the car lapsed into silence as we both returned to our thoughts.
Twilight rested her elbow on the window ledge, running fingers through her hair. I let my attention drift from the road to once again drink in the sight of the frail young woman who had showed up at my doorstep two nights ago. Inexplicable indeed — her story about being a magical pony princess stuck here in human form after miscasting a dimensional spell was somewhere north of unbelievable. And yet there was something about her which had made me drop everything to drive this stranger across the country to a middle-of-nowhere "ley-line nexus" she claimed might take her home.
"Unexceptional," she said. "That's one letter longer."
"I don't think I'm going to get anything better than 'neurotoxic'," I admitted, taking a hand off the wheel for a shrug. "It's really hard to find words with the letters 'NXC' in order."
"I think that wins the 'style points' award for the round, though," she said as a Ford sedan flashed by us in the other direction.
"Leaving you with first word, shortest word, and longest word." Which was fine with me — being humiliated by her intellect was a small price to pay for seeing her perk back up, given her increasing withdrawal as I kept trying to break the trip's monotony with conversation. I thumbed toward the receding car, glad I'd taught her the license-plate word game I'd played since childhood. "You catch the letters on that plate?"
"BLM." Despite her adorably nerdy coke-bottle glasses, her vision was inhumanly precise — she'd read several oncoming plates at a glance that had gone by far too quickly for me to resolve. "Sublimate."
I laughed. "Oh, geez. At least give me a chance. Um …" I paged fruitlessly through my mental dictionary, trying to ignore my brain's attempts to expand the letters like an acronym. "Bulimia?"
Twilight blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
I chuckled. "Are you trying to say you know the word 'habronemic' but not 'bulimia'?"
Her cheeks flushed as she gave me a self-conscious smile. "Habroneme," she corrected. "Having the appearance of fine threads. You learn some interesting geological terms with friends like Rarity. And no, I don't. What does it mean?"
"It's a mental disorder. People who self-induce vomiting after they eat —" I faltered as her smile dropped away — "and, uh. What?"
"Nothing," she quickly said, turning her head to stare out the car window. And there was that distance again. I had to do something before it became unbridgeable.
"It doesn't sound like nothing," I softly pressed.
She sighed, then said much more quietly: "It's just … every time I think I've started adjusting to your world, well." She opened and closed her mouth and tried again. "Why would anypo— anyone — do that?"
"… Because they think they need to be skinnier to be pretty? I don't know. It's not a thing I do. It's a word."
"It's a word here."
My gut tightened in the silence.
"Forget bulimia, then," I said. "Blame. I'll take shortest."
"Balm," Twilight said distantly as a Toyota whooshed by. "Look, forget about it. New round. TBD."
I lunged for the first-word award. "Stabbed."
"Trouba…" Twilight trailed off and sank her head into her hands. "Stars' love, Jeff."
I sighed and pulled over to the side of the highway, shifting into Park before turning in my seat to face her squarely. "Twilight. What's wrong?"
She whirled on me, eyes wet. "What's wrong?! What's wrong with your world? What's wrong with you, that even something as innocent as a word game has to get twisted into … into …" Instead of finishing the sentence, she flung her hands around in a vague gesture, then turned away, balling up on the seat. "Just … drive." Her voice broke. "I want to go home. If I even can."
I let out an exasperated breath. "Twilight. Look. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot —"
"No, you're not," she said, not moving. "You're smart, and generous, and you've been nothing but kind." She choked back a sob. "That's what hurts the most. How could 'stabbed' still be the first thing you think of from those letters? You're a wonderful person and yet I'm still getting flashbacks to facing off against Tirek."
"Because I said a stupid thing, and I'm sorry for it, and let's please not make something out of it that it isn't."
"Jeff, you haven't named a single positive word since we started playing."
"That's … not …"
… oh.
She finally looked back at me. Her eyes looked so tired.
I swallowed. "Really shitty coincidence. I don't … I mean, I can …" I started frantically sifting through letters as I babbled. T-B-D. Troubled. … No, not helping! … Entombed? … Oh my god. What kind of monster am I?
Twilight silently uncurled — looking hollowly forward, hands clasped in her lap, shoulders slumped. "Let's go," she said.
I shifted wordlessly into Drive and pulled back onto the highway. Silence entombed the troubled car.
My mind continued racing as the scenery drifted by. Twilight stared blankly out into nothing.
We passed a highway sign, and epiphany hit. "Westbound!" I said. It felt a little like cheating, but relief flooded in nevertheless.
She looked up at me. I gave her a hopeful smile. She smiled back, cheerlessly, but reached out to rest a hand on my leg for a moment, and I felt our distance close incrementally.
"Troubador," she said. "Tabulated. Tabard. Tubed, for shortest. Weatherboarding, for longest. For style points, take your pick — starboard, featherbed, outbid, unattributed."
I couldn't help but laugh. "You are a marvel."
"Thank you." Her smile — however fleeting — felt more genuine this time. "And I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry you have to deal with our world. Equestria really does sound like a paradise. I wish Earth was more like it." I sighed. "For both our sakes."
"Me too," Twilight said, subdued. "You deserve better."
"Thank you."
We lapsed back into silence for a long while. I looked at the trip odometer, then glanced at the directions I'd printed. Still over four hundred miles to go.
"How do you do it?" Twilight asked abruptly.
"… Do what?"
"Live here. Stay sane."
I tilted a hand off the wheel in a half-shrug. "By thinking of words like 'stabbed,' I guess?"
She frowned at my joke. "I'm being serious. And you know what I mean — that's the problem. All the violence on your tell-a-vision, the fear and misery in the newspaper, the bickering and insults on your computer. The negativity everywhere. How do you endure that and stay good?"
"You go numb," I said. "You ignore it."
"No you don't," Twilight said. "You didn't. You went out of your way to help me."
"… You make exceptions."
"But that's not how being good works!"
I turned my head. She was fidgeting with her fingers, rolling them past each other between her hands in an utterly alien way.
"I don't know what to tell you, then," I said. "Unless it's 'I'm not good'."
"But you are. … Aren't you?" She thought for a moment. "Why did you help me? Honestly."
"Because you needed it," I said firmly.
"See, there you go."
I chewed my lip. "… And, honestly? Because your story was utterly crazy, but in a beautiful way worth upending my life for, based on the slim chance you were telling the truth. But … mostly because you needed it. You were so desperate that you knocked on the door of a complete stranger. I couldn't ignore that."
"But I wasn't desperate, at the time," Twilight said. "I assumed you'd help, or at least point me to someone who could. Because that's just the way the world works! Except, as I found out more and more about where I'd ended up, it isn't." She began fidgeting again. "In hindsight, I'm terrified how stupid I was, and I can't believe how lucky I am that this worked out."
"Most people would have helped you, I think." I glanced out at the desolate countryside. "Well, not to this extent, maybe. But at worst, gently said no."
Twilight shook her head. "I'm sorry, no. That's illogical."
"What do you mean?"
"If most people were good, your world would be like ours."
I had to think about that one for a second.
"I think that comes back to the ignoring thing," I said. "Like … right now, I'm not out giving money to homeless people on street corners. But I am helping you. I think that for most people — including me — something has to break through your shell. With it up, you don't care. But once you do — once you let yourself see that there's a need — I think almost everyone wants to help. That's the default. We've just gotten so good at ignoring all the shouty loud voices of fear and hate and desperation that we miss the whispers of need, too."
Twilight was silent for a while.
"I don't understand that," she finally said. "But I'll take your word for it."
"Fair enough," I said.
She didn't say anything else, and I didn't press her, so she turned back to the window and we drove in silence for half an hour until I stopped for gas. When I returned to the car, though, she stirred.
"What's it like?" she asked. "Being numb."
"Uh, I don't know?" I said. "It's not like I'm numb numb. I still feel stuff. You just … sort of learn to be okay with bad things all the time. That's all."
"I can't imagine that."
"Well, of course not. It's like looking at your blind spot. It's not there when you actually focus on it."
Twilight gave me a puzzled frown. "But I'm talking about being okay with bad things. Like, the homeless people you mentioned don't disappear when you're not looking. It's a moral question, not an optical phenomenon."
I sighed. "It was an analogy."
"It's a faulty one."
I thought for a minute as I pulled back onto the freeway.
"I don't think so," I finally said. "I think everyone has moral blind spots. Even you."
"Like what?" Twilight asked.
"Like …" I tapped my fingers on the wheel. "That forest you mentioned near your home? The one you said felt like our world, with its own weather patterns?"
"The Everfree?" she asked. "What about it?"
"Doesn't it bother you that it's wild? That it's filled with dangerous predators, and spawns storms your weather teams have to clean up? Aren't those things that should be managed the same way the rest of your world is managed?"
Twilight crossed her arms. "I see where you're trying to go with that. Yes, Equestria would be safer if it was tamed. But that's just the way it is, and we shouldn't fiddle with it."
"Why?"
"Its danger and chaos is a living reminder of why we manage what we do." Twilight shook her head. "It's not a blind spot."
"And has anyone ever been hurt in the Everfree? Killed in the Everfree?" I asked. "Is the reminder worth those lives?"
Twilight bit her lip. "… It's not a blind spot."
"Neither are my town's homeless people, from what you said earlier."
She abruptly turned away, and a little flutter of panic said that I'd gone too far. The panic receded into uneasiness when Twilight slowly nodded. She let out a long breath, and her shoulders sagged, and she leaned against the window, staring out at the distant mountains.
A driver that had been closing in on us from behind pulled around to pass, gunning his ancient Chevy's engine. I glanced over at his license plate as he went by.
"Forget about it," I said, forcing a smile. "R-E-D. Reading."
She didn't respond. The smile dropped away from my face.
"… Reading?" I said again. "I, uh, thought you'd be happier for me. I didn't even have to try for that one — it just came out naturally …"
She let out a little breath, and closed her eyes.
"… Twilight?"
"Corrupted," she said vacantly, and my blood iced over.
"Don't say that," I protested. "It's not that bad."
She opened her eyes again, staring out at the oncoming road, and shook her head. "No," she said sadly. "It's just ... I understand now. You're good when you choose to care. It's an infection, choosing whether to care or not. You even think in infected language — Tartarus, that's probably the first thing you made the choice for. It really is that simple — just let the infection set in and fester. Decide to not care, thing by thing."
"Hey, whoah," I said.
She smiled humorlessly out at the road. "I can do it, too. Anyone can. Just choose not to think about the hurt in your words. Rend. Greed. Hatred. Tragedy."
"Twilight, stop," I said, scared of my passenger for the first time since she'd gotten into my car.
But the words kept tumbling out. "Feared. Warred. Massacred. Herded, oppressed, brainwashed."
I fumbled for a verbal antidote. Positive words. Positive! Redact. Reduce. … Reused? "Recycled," I interjected.
"Depredation," she countered. "Predator. Harried. Buried. Distressed."
-Ed, -ed, -ed … -red … "Sacred!" I said.
She continued as if I hadn't spoken, body balling up on the seat again, eyes squeezing shut against her tears. "Shredded. Tattered. Separated." Her body shuddered. "Segregated. Prejudice. Irredeemable."
I wrenched the wheel to the side and stepped hard on the brakes, the car lurching to a halt on the shoulder. "Returned!" I shouted. "Equestria…-ed! Princess-ed!"
Then a memory of something she'd told me about herself struck. A spark lit.
I grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her face toward me.
"Friendship," I said.
She met my eyes at last, and for a moment oh god the pain and fear and solitude — and then something broke in her, more like a fever than a dam, and she leaned in against both of our seatbelts and threw her arms around me and clung to my chest and sobbed, holding on for dear life. And I held her back, this lost alien princess, doing the caring for both of us while her emotions drained away.
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First comment reserved for author's notes.
This is, ultimately, a story about caring, and I'd like to echo again what I said in the story note above. Please take a moment to make the world a better place, if not every day, then at least today.
The game described in the story is one I've played in cars since childhood. I'm sure there are other sets of house rules for the license plate game out there, but this is the one I know:
Most (non-custom) American license plates have three letters on them, along with several numbers. Take those three letters from a passing plate and come up with words that contain them in order. (Four-letter minimum: If those letters spell out a word, you can't use it.) You can name as many words as you want, and get points in four different categories:
Break ties by which word was said earliest. End rounds when someone wants a new set of letters (typically when everyone's found at least one word, or given up, and nobody's coming up with new ones any more).
It's surprisingly addictive. Last month, my friend and I passed an "MXC" and both drew a blank; half an hour of dedicated puzzling later, I finally managed to come up with a bullshit technical-term compound word just so we'd have one answer for it. This story's first round is a (slightly simpler) homage to that.
Well, at least this one hurt in a more general sense rather than the straight-into-the-weak-spot way. It's a good kind of hurt, I think.
Ah, man. I wish this were five times longer, but at the same time, its length feels perfect for the story it tells.
Bravo, and thank you.
Also, it’s important to remember that for most of us (well, speaking for myself, anyway), the thicker skin we develop as we age tends to go one way – minor to moderate barbs and unpleasantness don’t affect us, but even the most trivial good things (cute puppy pictures!) can make us smile and giggle like idiots. Some take numbness too far for any number of reasons, but it’s important to try and be disaffected towards only the bad, not the good.
Of course, I’m talking here about the more directed and deliberate kind of unpleasantness that needs to be ignored (like jerks on the Internet, etc.), not unpleasant realities that are worth feeling and caring about (such as the in-story example of homeless people).
Given more time to think about it:
I think part of the problem is that, like in so many situations, we're just not psychologically equipped to care for this many people. In the age of the Internet you can't throw a rock without seeing someone in need. There is much more suffering being delivered to our direct, immediate attention than evolution has prepared us to cope with. So the moment your finger is hovering over the donate button, you start thinking "why this one instead of the thousand others you literally passed up in the past week?" Then you get the slipping sensation of being bled dry; giving even a dollar to every single GoFundMe in existence will break the average human. So you turn away and just... don't.
Maybe it's different in Equestria. Maybe the lack of mass media means that you can give healthily to the local
Scootaloo storage facilityorphanage and that's all you even know about. You never have to turn off.8335760
Very good point. This actually has a name – Dunbar’s Number, also known (as coined by Cracked.com) as the Monkeysphere.
Also: “local Scootaloo storage facility orphanage” – That was awful and I love it.
On a meta level, I love how you used the prompt.
8335768
8335760
I was going to invoke the Monkeysphere. Equestria doesn't -- for the most part -- have instant communication with its entire world; the average pony isn't going to be aware of the average tragedy, certainly not to the point where they're ground down into a numb nub by them all.
Of course, Twilight might have a point too; it's not like human civilization has ever had a Princess of Friendship to solve interpersonal issues on any scale. The existence of such a role would seem to speak to intrinsic differences in ponykind and humankind.
Oh my gosh. I got it into my head for some reason that the narrator was Sunset Shimmer. I was so confused when she started calling Sunset Jeff
8335817
I vote that we make "Jeff" SunShim's inexplicable fandom nickname.
Well, this was an interesting read before 5am. Will have to read it again when I get home to give a better opinion.
8335831
Yes XD
MeXiCo?
If this Twilight listens to OK Computer she's going to flip.
Otherwise, neat little story that I enjoyed. The human was interesting and I enjoyed the cultural differences as they played their game and how the moral didn't feel forced. I really hope to see more from you in the future!
8335760
That's why we need socialism to ameliorate the vast amounts of suffering on this world and also slow down global warming.
Well. That was enjoyably painful. A devastating look at the modern human condition through more innocent eyes, along with the whisper of hope that should come with any Pandora's box. Thank you for it.
"Well, some ponies get gobbled up by the monsters every now and then," Twilight noted. "But hey, the monsters need to eat too! And the herd must be thinned... FOR THE GREATER GOOD..."
This was really well written. You obviously have a vocabulary rivaling that of Skywriter, and you did a great job of using show not tell the illustrate that Twilight is really fucking smart.
I struggle with this a lot too, just the sheer amount of suffering in the world. It's really depressing and with Facebook and social media we learn about more of it than ever. I just try to keep carrying on and encouraging my friends and comrades to keep carrying on too. In time, I truly do believe we will make the world a better place. Unfortunately there's gonna be a lot of suffering in that process too.
I don't read pony stories as much as I should anymore, but this reminded me of the "Twilight's Landing" by Merlos the Mad.
Melancholy, but to be expected. And much the same sort of haunting evocation that pinpoints why you are consistently one of the best around here, horizon!
8335077
Mexican?
--Sweetie Belle
Hm, different...
I think I like it.
All through this, I was thinking of two famous quotations--
I wish I could say something original, but who am I to try to improve on those guys' words?
You've always had a knack for fish-out-of-water stories, and as I can never get enough of them, I'm quite pleased by this new development in frequent publication. Keep 'em coming!
ouch
Hope she gets back
Equestria does come across as this coddled paradise
And damn the words
This story is easily one of the best I have ever read. I would say I hoped to see more from this, but to be honest, I think that this is better on its own. It provides insight on the way humanity works in contrast to life in Equestria. This story opened my eyes, and my heart.
I reviewed this story as part of Read It Now Reviews #109.
My review can be found here.
The sad thing is that I care about myself and the preservation of knowledge, I honestly don't care about things that don't hinder me or the pursuit of knowledge. I try to care a lot of times, but I fail to, because it doesn't concern me. I do care about individuals that I know well.
Amazing... that's all I can say about this one.
The beginning of this story made me expect to hate it – which I didn’t, I came away liking it. Let me point out what bothered me.
&
This is such a BS way to do exposition. The first part because you want me to buy that he randomly explained how the game works in this line, and the second one, well, same reason. This one is arguably not as bad because it’s monologue, but it’s still implied that he’s thinking about it right now.
Just make a paragraph explaining the game. it’s written fiction, not screenplay. You have a narrator. No need to cram it into dialogue. It’s way more honest that way and doesn’t break immersion.
... and since I actually liked the story overall, let me also say something positive
That was super clever and subtle and great and I loved it.
Now unrelated. Being an effective altruist, I feel obligated to say this:
If your goal is to feel good, then I can’t tell you what to do.
But if you want to actually improve the world, then it very much does matter what you do. Donating 200$ to the Against Malaria Foundation and saying something nice to a sad person are not equal in how much they improve the world. One has ten thousand times as much effect as the other.
The actual, optimal way for normal people to do good is to donate – after doing proper research where to donate (relevant), because effectiveness can still vary by a pretty large factor across different charities.
8336595
Thanks for speaking up. Somehow you managed to quadruple-post, though, so I deleted three of your four identical comments.
I think it may also have to do with the society that Princess Celestia cultivated. Having someone like her shaping a culture for millennia has probably had some positive effects.
8336811
Wow, I'm not sure how I managed that.
I would've said: "You're right Twilight, people just don't care. Friends never care, families don't care, even the leaders of the world have better things to do from time to time; but I wont stop trying to care, because somebody has to. If it weren't for that we would've destroyed ourselves years and years ago."
Seriously though, great story
Nice, pretty good one-shot.
Twilight...
Anyways, Equestria-ed and princess-ed are totally real words. The first happens in HiE fics and the second happened at the end of Season 3.
8336869
Magic
Yeah, to me this whole exchange, while necessary, actually undercut the message of the story. Twilight's flat denial that the Everfree was a blind spot came across just like that - as denial, not some mystical psychological difference between pony and human. And then you remember that Equestria has, canonically, such terrors as:
1) Extreme shunning of other races (Zecora)
2) Arguable slavery (the sheep in Applejack's pens can talk)
3) Horrors that make the Everfree Forest look like the newbie zone in an MMO - Tirek, Changelings, all manner of pony-eating monsters, etc.
The intended message of this fic is admirable and one that I can get behind, but I think the result would have been 10 times stronger if Twilight, instead of desperately clinging to the illusion of moral high ground, had realized that ponies aren't perfect paragons of goody-goodness either, and both characters resolved to improve their own moral blind spots.
8337071
This is doubt. Also, desperation.
This is resignation.
I'm... honestly not sure where you got the idea that she stopped at flat denial. Their little "debate" ended exactly the way you wished; she just didn't have the emotional wherewithal to deal with it properly at the time. In the face of their world image coming crashing down, no one would.
8337168
But in spite of seeming to agree she spends the rest of the fic acting like Equestria is all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. I took that more as "I don't wanna talk about it" than any kind of resolve to do better.
This fic wants to call humanity out on not doing better, but having the pony act like magical horses don't have the same problem, regardless of what she nods at, undercuts that message.
Please don't get me wrong, I still loved this, its just that the moral fell flat when it could have been excellent.
Eh, survival is selfish, Twilight. I know it's not the answer most people want to hear, but genetics predispose us to taking care of ourselves and our immediate family than that of strangers. Those moral blind spots are there to protect us. It's not what the author intended, I think, but Twilight's reaction to discovering her own moral blind spots is pretty accurate to how most people would react when confronted with the evils of the world and what we can and can't do about them. It's depressing. Like Jeff, we distract ourselves with humor and shiny objects and games. The world bleeds through these things, but for the most part, they go unnoticed until an outside perspective challenges them.
I for one don't particularly blame anyone or look down on them if they ignore the injustices of the world and focus on their own survival instead. After all, in order for something to be gained, it must be taken from somewhere else. The equation must be balanced and the overall value of it remains the same regardless of how you shuffle the variables around. A bit cynical and perhaps nihilistic, but hey, I sleep well at night.
Take the topic of organ donation, for example. If I signed up to become an organ donor today and committed suicide tomorrow, my body could save up to eight lives and improve the lives of fifty people. Of course, by committing suicide, I would be hurting those closest to me and removing any possibility of future good deeds I could contribute to the world. So which is more selfish? Ask any Equestrian pony this and you're liable to break them in the same way A.I. break when you hit them with a paradox. It's something they just don't think about. Even if you can minimize the selfishness, there's no way to completely eliminate it. An argument can be made for both sides, such as anything else in a world full of gray areas.
In short, moral blind spots are hardwired into us. You can try to improve them if you want, but you can't really play the "holier than thou" card that Twilight tried to play and pretend you don't have any. Have fun rationalizing.
I wonder whose license plate that is...
Came for the license plate games, stayed for the philosophical feels. Well done, especially with that last word.
For the game, try the letters from my Mom's old plate: JAX
(She had to get new one when the number part had faded too much, and she wasn't going to pay for a vanity plate to keep what she had, she to the state changing the layout of the standard plates)
Hell, I'll cheerfully break it down to critter classification. Herbivorous herd animal vs omnivorous predatory social primate.
8338026
Jadzia Dax? I suppose it has to be one word. Ajax?
--Sweetie Belle
This story was a lot heavier than I expected going into it, but I love the thought that went into its message. The juxtaposition of cultures is in itself a bit numbing and surprising.
That word game sounds quite fun. Did you think of all the words yourself, or were you able to look them up somehow?
8338026
8338159
Jambeaux, clearly.
D&D to the rescue!
There's only so much care we're equipped to have, and people have driven themselves to madness agonizing over the fates of the masses.
We're just people. We care about the people closest to us, and the rest have to handle their own. That's normal, that's natural, that's healthy. It's not about morality.
This was a beautiful story. 'Nuff said
8337071
Oh for the love of.. She lived in the Everfree forest a place with mythological creatures and monsters that terrorize ponies, even some that look like harmless critters at first glance. Acted really odd outside of it, spoke weird when she did actually speak.
It wasn't because she was a Zebra, it was because they thought some was some sort of monstrous witch who would beguile them or curse them! She lives in a place where things are unnatural and try to either kill you or screw your life over on a daily basis and she's somehow thriving there. The same season had Gilda, a much more antagonistic person and yet they still accepted her into town. Though at the same point we've yet to see other Zebra so it may be that she's also the only one they've seen.. And once again, forest witch.
The Sheep haven't spoken from what I remember, the cows however did. They actually seem to like it, so I may have to chalk that one up to cultural differences.